


Green

by maximumsuckage



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Siblings, Urban Fantasy, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-04 17:33:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximumsuckage/pseuds/maximumsuckage
Summary: A girl goes to a witch for help in finding her brother.





	1. Chapter 1

The address was scrawled onto the back of an old gas station receipt. The paper was worn to softness, creased a thousand and one times, but the address was still clear enough to make out and type into a GPS.  And that was exactly what Alex Ward had done, though now, as she pulled up to the curb, she was starting to wonder if this was the wisest decision.

The house was low and squat, slowly condensing in on itself like an elderly spine.  Vines curled up the walls, twisted across the roof, tangled on the chain-link fence that surrounded the overgrown lawn.  A cat was sleeping on the sagging porch, a raggedy animal of calico fur.  Windows were curtained, and the cracks between the fabric were dark.  Broken appliances and abandoned cars littered the front lawn, each tangled with plants.  A couple of sparrows were nesting in an old tire. 

When Alex stepped out of the car, it was into a smell of mustiness and green plant-life.  One of the birds made a loud warning shriek at her, but she had no desire to steal their chicks, so she ignored it and stepped over to the gate, reaching out. 

She half expected the metal to shock her, but it was only sun-warm when she closed her fingers around the latch.  Taking a deep breath, she pushed the gate open, wincing at the screeching of ancient, rusted hinges.  If the owner of the house didn’t know that she was there before, they knew now. 

The cat lifted its head, blinking lazily in her direction.  Alex gave it a polite smile, then stepped onto the cracked sidewalk, careful not to step on any plants.  She wasn’t sure how witches worked; she hadn’t believed in witches up until a little bit ago, but now she was worried that if even one blade of grass was crushed under her foot, a curse would befall her.

And Alex had already been cursed enough. 

Gritting her teeth at the thought, she continued forward, careful with her steps, nodding politely at the cat each time it tilted its head at her.  Meeting a witch would be easy.  Alex had survived med school interviews; she could survive a simple meeting with a magic lady. 

The porch steps creaked under her foot, and she winced, worried that the ancient, softening planks wouldn’t hold her weight. 

But the steps held, and she stepped up onto the porch.  The smell was stronger here, of old wood and summer plants and something a bit sharper underneath.  It tingled in her nostrils and made her press her hand to her face, breathing deeply to suppress a sneeze.  Magic, maybe?  The part of her that had spent the last four years in pre-med biology told her that it was nothing more than an unfamiliar herb, but in light of recent events, she wondered. 

The cat mewed at her.  Alex hesitated, then reached down to brush her fingers over its ears.  “Good cat,” she murmured, when it half sat up to press its face into her hand.  She gave it a scritch under the chin, then stepped to the front door, where dark glass hid whatever lay beyond. 

Her palms were sweating, and she rubbed them on her pants, cursing herself.  This was not awkward, she reminded herself.  This was how witches worked, right?  People just came up to their doors in the stories.  There wasn’t a way to text or call ahead and make an appointment, like there was with normal people.

Alex took a deep breath, then knocked before she could lose her nerve. 

For a moment that was simultaneously breathtakingly relieving and heartstoppingly terrifying, there was no response.  Then, from deep inside, a voice called, “Come in, dearie.”

Alex’s breath hitched, and then she took another deep breath.  Like it sensed her fear, the calico padded over and rubbed against her leg.  She drew strength from the little animal, rubbing her sweaty palms on her jeans (should she have dressed more formally?) and pushed the door open. 

Inside, the halls were dark and humid, but the air was rich and fresh as a forest.  In the patches of light thrown by windows with translucent curtains were as many pots of soil as could fit, each one overflowing with green leaves and colorful flowers.  Their tendrils wandered through the dark, and Alex was careful not to step on any as she stepped deeper into the house.  The humidity didn’t help her sweating palms. 

“This way, child,” came the voice again, clearer this time.  It was the crackling voice of an elderly woman, and though it was calm, with no trace of the malevolent witches in the stories Alex had grown up with, it did nothing to calm her nerves. 

“You got this,” she breathed to herself.  “You did med school interviews, girl.  You got this.”

“Stop muttering to yourself and come back here.  My old legs don’t want to carry me out there to you.”  The witch’s voice was louder this time, colored by just a trace of annoyance. 

Alex quickened her pace and walked deeper into the house, past a few dark doorways, into the back room.  The deeper she walked, the heavier the air became, and Alex wondered how anybody could live here, without ventilation, where moisture practically leaked from the walls. 

The back room, in contrast, was so bright that Alex was blinded for a second.  When her eyes adjusted, it took her a moment to understand what she was looking at, to see past the myriad of colors and smells and sounds that barraged her senses. 

It was a greenhouse- the back and ceiling had been knocked down and replaced with glass, and the plants that draped over every available space threw off green leaves and bright flowers and a hundred different scents of a hundred species that Alex had never seen outside of _National Geographic_.  In one corner was a massive fish tank (or perhaps simply massive for the space), and the gold and silver scales of koi flashed in the water.  A pump hummed, and tubes snaked from that tank, branching and twisting across the floorboards to connect with the roots of every plant.  And then the water was collected again, the drainage pooling in reused gutters to return to the tank in a room-wide, homemade hydroponics system.

It took Alex a moment to find the witch in the chaos of the tangled flora, but there she was, sitting in a cushy, if damp, armchair, watching Alex stare at the room.  Her face was gnarled and her hands were twisted with arthritis, but there was still a sharp glint of intelligence in her faded eyes. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, raising one knotty hand.  “I used to travel the world, teaching English to children or building houses or selling spells.  I just wanted to bring a little of the globe’s beauty back here.”

Alex nodded.  “It’s beautiful,” she agreed politely, stepping forward.  “So… um…”

The witch pressed her knuckles together.  “Child.  Calm down.  I won’t bite.  Take a seat.”

There wasn’t a chair, so awkwardly, Alex sat on the floor, careful not to crush any vines. 

“Now, you’re a young person, so I know you haven’t come to listen to my stories.”  The witch clicked her tongue, and the cat darted past Alex to hop up into her lap, purring contently.  “You’re all moving so quickly nowadays.  What do you want, then?”

Alex closed her eyes, taking a breath.  “I was told,” she said slowly, “that I should come to you if I needed help with a demon.”

“A demon?”  The witch’s hands started to stroke the purring cat, gnarled fingers brushing through the color-patched fur.  “Now, what business would a pretty young thing like you have with a demon?  You should have gone to a priest, not to an old bat like me-”

“No, no, no.”  Alex shook her head, and then realized with a shock that she’d interrupted a witch.  She paused, and when she wasn’t immediately turned into a frog, she continued.  “I need to find a demon.  Not exorcise one.”

“Oh.”  The witch peered at her.  “Now, why would you want to _find_ a demon?  Did you sell your soul to one?  No matter how many times you try to convince people that it’s not worth it…”  She shook her head and _tsked_ her tongue.

“Not that I haven’t thought about it,” Alex muttered, “but college loans aren’t my biggest problem right now.”  She let out a choked laugh, then covered her mouth, shocked by the broken sound.  “Never thought I’d say college loans weren’t my biggest problem.”

The witch considered her for a long moment.  “Would you like some tea?”

“No, no thanks.”  Alex shook her head, but the witch had already clicked her tongue at the cat. 

The cat stood, stretched so long that its spine quivered, and then hopped off her lap, vanishing elsewhere into the house. 

“Now, dearie, how about you start at the beginning?  Why are you looking for this demon?”

Alex licked her lips.  “Um… I’m sorry, what’s your name?  They didn’t tell me your name.”

“My name doesn’t matter,” the witch said.  “Not if you are here for my help.  Now, tell me your story.”

“So…” Alex took a breath, unnerved.  What kind of person wouldn’t give a name, even a fake one, for the sake of conversation? A witch, it appeared.  “Um… so, my house has been haunted, like, all my life.  And… I mean, I never really believed it.  You never really believe it, do you?  This whole, magic, paranormal thing.”  She waved a hand vaguely.  “I mean, no offence or anything, but…”

Her awkward introduction was interrupted by the clinking of glassware.  Alex found herself looking into the vivid green eyes of a slender girl, hair patched in red and brown and white.  The girl was silent as she knelt down to set a steaming mug next to Alex, and then she padded, barefoot, back to the chair and laid down at the witch’s feet, curling up and closing her eyes. 

Alex, wide eyed, look from the girl to the witch, but the witch didn’t seem to notice anything odd about it.  “Now, dearie, tell me your story from the beginning.  You don’t need to worry about looking insane.  On the chance that this is all a figment of your overactive imagination, who would I tell?  I’m but a little old woman.”

Behind her, the koi splashed in their tank.  Alex picked up the tea and took a polite sip.  She didn’t particularly like tea; coffee was her poison of choice, especially in latte form, but the hot liquid served to clear her mind.  “So, yeah.  There was a ghost in my house, growing up.  I never saw it, so I assumed I was making things up.  It’s an old house.  You know how they are, with the creaking and the random noises and the lights flickering every once and a while.”

The witch nodded at her to continue.  Alex took another sip of the tea- it was green tea, but there were a few other bitter flavors mingling within it that she didn’t recognize.  “So, nobody believed me, so eventually I stopped talking about it, and I kind of convinced myself it was just a story I made up when I was a little kid.  I could just say everything had a reasonable explanation, you know?”

“But what brings you here today?” the witch asked.  The girl at her feet looked up at Alex, green eyes blinking slowly. 

Alex took another deep breath, rubbing her hands on her pants again.  Though the warm mug was calming, it did nothing for her sweaty palms.   “I didn’t make it up.  The ghost was real.  But it wasn’t a ghost.  It was a demon, and it took my baby brother.  So, I’m coming to you for advice on how to trap-”

Her voice caught in her throat, but it wasn’t emotion- no, when she came to the direct reason for her visit, she felt more determined than ever.  Rather, her throat seemed to close up.  She tried to draw breath, but no air came.  She gasped, setting the mug down politely as she ducked her head.  She must have choked on the tea, maybe was having an allergic reaction to a mysterious plant?  She’d never had a reaction before-

Her hand on her neck was cold, and she gasped as she looked at it, watched the skin between her fingers grow even as the bones narrowed.  The color changed, shimmering from lightly tanned into bright gold, even as the witch seemed to grow.

Alex lost her balance, pitching forward to hit the ground, her arms too short to catch her as she gasped.  Her skin felt cold and wet, her clothes were too big and tangled around her like a net, and she couldn’t draw breath, couldn’t find the air. 

The witch smiled, and nudged the cat-girl with her toe.  She got up, and Alex felt an irrational fear as a hand reached towards her- when had the girl gotten so big?

And then a hand closed around her, and her vision was warped wide, and she could see the entire room at once except for the area right in front of her face, and her head spun-

She splashed as the girl let her go in the tank.  Cool water flooded across her gills, and she could breathe again, gasping as she sank slowly to the bottom of the tank.  Other fish bumped her, but she didn’t know how to move, could only flop, heavy and clumsy-

The witch laughed.  Alex could see through the glass of the tank, but the only sound that reached her was deep and muffled. 

Really, Alex should have expected this, coming for help from a witch.  She let herself go limp, and found her body floating to the top of the tank, like a dead feeder fish in Walmart.  And, as the other koi bumped her with their fat golden bodies, she couldn’t even scream.

Her brother was in danger, and she was trapped in a fish tank. 

Outside the glass, the girl had turned back into a cat.  The witch was scritching it under the chin, just as Alex had when she’d first arrived at the witch’s house. 

 _Traiter_ , she thought, as hard as she could, but the cat didn’t respond. 


	2. Chapter 2

_14 years ago_

The girl lay on her belly on the living room floor, surrounded by crayons and paper.  Her dark hair had once been in braids, though now it was in messy tangles, and one of her knees was skinned, and her feet were dirty from running outside, but none of this bothered her.  She was in a good mood, humming as she drew, using the silver glitter crayon to outline (because silver glitter was way more interesting than black).  The edge of a book she was using as a hard surface was visible under the paper.

They’d just found out that the new baby was going to be a boy.  A little baby boy, and Alex would be a big sister, and she was beside herself with excitement.  She’d jumped up and down shrieking when she’d found out.  And now, she lay on the floor, drawing a card for the new baby so when he was born (a momentous occasion that was still a good five or six months away, an eternity to wait for a seven-year-old) he would be able to know who his family was right way. 

She labored over the crayon colors.  Her father was a large, friendly man who liked to swing her up in the air and show her how to fold paper airplanes.  She labored over the colors for his shirt, crisscrossing red and blue so that the new baby would recognize the plaid of his favorite shirts.  Making salt and pepper hair was difficult, so she used a bit of the silver glitter crayon too, testing it on a small corner before deciding that she liked the effect and using it on his entire head.

Before she started on her mother, she had to grab the black crayon, which had rolled away across the carpet.  The tip of the black was the only one that was still sharp, because she never used it.  She preferred the silver for her outlines, even though other kids liked black.

Her father ended up being the easy one in the picture.  Alex couldn’t decide if she wanted her mother to wear a dress or pants- she wore both equally.  She ended up deciding on pants, but the outline of the dress was still there, which was frustrating, so she drew in the dress as well, so that she had a skirt and blue tights.  The long, flowing gold hair was easy though (it would only be years later that Alex would find out that the color was from a bottle). 

And then she drew herself, a messy child of tangled hair and big green eyes and her favorite green dress with little leaves and flowers all over it. 

For last, she drew the baby.  She didn’t know what he’d look like.  Would he be blond, like their mother, or dark haired, like her and her father?  Would he be tall or short?  Fat or skinny?  Would he have freckles? 

Alex didn’t know, so she made her best guess, giving him yellow hair because she liked the neon crayon, coloring his shirt plaid like their father, making him shorter than her (because she was the big sister and she wanted to be taller because older siblings were bigger). 

The black crayon moved again. 

Alex looked over at it, then laughed.  “Get back here,” she told the crayon, and picked it up off the rug to set it back with the others.  Then she picked up the green to start coloring the grass. 

The black crayon rolled away again. 

Alex sighed in exasperation and picked it up to put it back with the others, carefully setting it in the middle of the pile so that it wouldn’t move by itself again.  Then she started coloring the grass under her family’s feet. 

This time, all the crayons rolled away, bouncing across the rug to hit the wall. 

Alex yelped and reached out, catching a handful, but the rest were across the room now, like the bully in school had swiped them across the table.  Groaning in exasperation, she got up off the floor to go collect them. 

This had happened before.  It was an old house, her parents said, and some of the floors were sloped a little bit.  Her father had explained that from where he’d been laying on the floor the other day, shoving shims under the corner cabinet to keep the doors from swinging open when nobody was in the room.  But it was still annoying to have to go collect them all.  Her parents had gotten her the largest crayon box, and it took ages to pick up ninety-six colors (or more like seventy-four at this point, a good number of crayons had been lost already) when they were all against the opposite wall. 

She ended up grabbing the box.  She was almost done with her picture anyways, and if she left the crayons out then people stepped on them and broke them.  Alex liked having not-broken crayons.  The ones at school were all mangled, and there was nothing more relaxing than coming home to her nice box that she didn’t have to share. 

When she’d put all the crayons back, she groaned at the empty spaces in the box.  It was so not-satisfying, missing some of the colors, but no matter how hard she searched, she couldn’t find them, so the empty spaces would have to remain. 

Then she went to get her picture to hang on the fridge until the baby was born.  Except it had changed, while her back was turned. 

The baby boy had been blacked out by scribbles, and the tip of the black crayon had been worn down to the paper. 

Alex stared at it, blinking slowly, fingers clutching the crayon box.  Then she grabbed up the picture and crumpled it up, and shoved it into the trash can in the kitchen, burying it under day-old chicken grease so nobody would see the ruined masterpiece. 

Alex knew the word ‘ghost.’  People whispered ghost stories at school.  But ghosts did not exist. 

Just to be safe, though, Alex plucked the black crayon off the floor and ran outside, throwing it as hard as she could into the mean neighbor boy’s yard.  There.  The ghost could bug him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No guarantees how far this'll go, fair warning. I have a couple more scenes (chapters? idk it doesn't seem long enough for chapters) written now, but kinda experiment for myself to see if I can get an original thing going like the monster trash heap of a supernatural fic i have (which the next chapter will probably be up today or tomorrow if anyone is paying attention)
> 
> I should do dishes or something now hmm

**Author's Note:**

> There's a giant stinkbug in my room right now and he keeps running into the light and he's super loud I named him Jeremiah. 
> 
> Also this is probably not the place for original stuff but Wattpad looks like a lot of work rn I'll figure it out later


End file.
